#majorityruleic

It’s not that he wants to talk about it, of course, but it’s pretty clear their situation is serious.

“Young Shinsou,” The elder called the other on the second day. Waving the boy towards the public restrooms on the bottom floor of their hotel prison. 

When the door had shut behind him, the tall blonde seemed to breath a little easier. 

“ I don’t think there are any camera or microphone chips here / / At least, I’d hope not. ” The idea just seemed too lewd. 

Dabi’s partner is Kaminari Denki. Dabi’s first reaction at the time was confusion, because the name totally escaped him. It took him a while of asking around as subtly as he could manage before he found the kid.

Shoving his hands in his pockets he tried to think of a way of phrasing what he could only assume they both knew before inevitably giving up, because whether or not this was going to be awkward as hell.

“Woah,” The state of the kitchen was rather impressive. Despite the fact that he’d dismantled one of the ovens and made a sizable dent in their sugar supplies; the other student had been able to make quite a bit of food.

Stress relief, maybe? Or maybe she was trying to do something to help everyone, make sure they were eating properly even in this situation. Such a thing wouldn’t be outside of Kinomoto’s character.

“You’ve been pretty busy, huh?” Izuku said, glancing around. “Why don’t I help you clean up? We can talk and work at the same time.”

So then why...

Was it simply a lack of trust in Izuku? Or had they hated that man Kosami Ryu that much? Or even worse...was everyone here willing to play the game? Did they actually want to go along with this sick shit?

“Who...who did that? I told you all to vote for me! So why...!”

Everyone hadn’t though.

All Might

Present Mic

Sero

Any hopes of making it out together had died along with them. It was officially impossible, now. Not that Izuku would really think of that, not until hours later. Right now he’s not thinking of anything. Brain filled with static. And blood. So much blood. On the ground, splattered on the walls, roaring in his ears. Drowning out any and all noise.

Wordlessly, the teenager drops to his knees beside his fallen teacher; hardly registering the splattering sound it makes. How had this happened? Wasn’t everything supposed to be alright? Wasn’t everything always alright, as long as All Might was around? Even after he had retired?

But All Might wasn’t around anymore.